


Strange, wild beauty

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Bisexual Tessa Virtue, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s the thousand tiny little things that she notices. The freckles on his nose, the way his dark hair flops over his piercing green eyes, the depth to his edges and elegance in everything he does.Tessa sees it all and can’t ever quite believe that Scott chose her, busy and sporty, and seemingly made for ice hockey, and yet he’s there, and she’s there, grabbing his hand gliding across the ice as the notes to their music ring across the rink.VM Bodyswap! Obviously AU, though perhaps more cannon than we think?





	Strange, wild beauty

It’s the thousand tiny little things that she notices. 

It’s the freckles on his cheekbones, the one on his lower lip that makes her heart stop. The way his impossibly long eyelashes (why is it that men have long gorgeous eyelashes?) cast shadows on his face, and the look of his green eyes as he sees her. The crinkles in the corner, the light behind them. The warmth in his smile.

It’s the way he holds his sister, Jordan, it’s the way Scott pushes himself to make his edges cleaner and tighter and better. Always better. 

It’s the way that, somehow, he says she’s his favourite person in the whole world, her messy brown hair in a falling apart ponytail, the way she fights and pushes boundaries and always teased that she could outrun him. Because she totally could. 

They’re the unlikeliest of duos; Scott is long and lean and elegant. He was introspective and driven and on his way to being a really skilled ballet dancer, even from a young age. Born talent. But Jordan wanted to skate, and so at 4 and 7 they were the tiniest dancers on the ice. Two years later at the tender ages of 6 and 9, Jordan decided she did’t want to do it anymore, but Scott had found his passion. Not just dancing, not ballet, it was the ice.

Tessa was the youngest of three, having grown up playing hockey with her two brothers, Danny and Charlie. She was fierce and feisty and took it with pride that she could win at wrestling, and they stopped going easy on her years ago. She still won. She was talented on the ice- one of the best skaters on her team - and when Scott needed a partner, she was suggested. Just try it, just to see. They practiced at the same rink, and she was one of the only girls on the team who could move without fear.

The tomboy met the dancer, and magic happened. Tessa knew she was good on the ice, and Scott could see so, too. They didn’t talk much in the beginning, but one afternoon he told her so, quietly, as they were unlacing their boots at the end of the day:

“You’re a really good skater.”

Simple words, nothing fancy, but they sat in Tessa’s chest and she agreed to be his partner. She was 7 and he was 9.

—-

If you’d asked Scott what he loved about Tessa, the first few words would be something like Passion. Energy. Electricity. The world would wax poetic about his elegance- later commentators throwing out things like, “These two chuck the flower and stem analogy right out the window!” 

He knew it bothered Tessa that she wasn’t perceived as being as graceful as he was. She would never let on, she’d just hide away those feelings and go back to the gym, pushing herself harder and faster, working to change the narrative. If she wasn’t going to match him in grace, she would match him in strength and ability.

But at thirteen, the words cut deep- not only from other girls at the rink and at school, but it’s the toxic culture in subjective sport, like modeling but with excuses to not eat. Girls would justify having half an avocado for lunch because “Nationals” and everyone would solemnly nod their heads in agreement, munching on their celery sticks.

It’s hard to shrug off the comments when you perceive them as true;   
“- she’s just not as graceful as he is.”  
“- she could never be a singles skater. It’s probably for the best that Scott is so stubborn about skating with her, but I don’t get it. Personally.”  
“- he could do better.”

She pretends not to hear, and turns up the music on her iPod, hoping her headphones would help her not to cry until she was alone. 

Tessa had friends, of course, but most of them existed outside of skating. There was Leigh, who was her next door neighbor growing up, Rachel who was her closest in school, and... Scott. So maybe not a lot of friends. 

Then there was her.

 

\- January 2003

Jessica Dubé was a little bit different. She was kind of quiet, peculiar, but opinionated. Tessa wasn’t necessarily surprised to hear her speaking in rapid French- she’d grown up in driving distance of Quebec, but Tessa felt very generic and Canadian and Jess felt very French. 

They met in the ballroom of the Hampton Inn in Saskatoon, everyone sitting on the hard hotel chairs, looking through their information packets for the competition, highlighting their scheduled practice times and collecting their badges from the registration tables. Tessa was 14 and so was she, both noticing the other’s badges; Tessa and Scott in Ice Dance, Jessica and her partner Samuel in Pairs. 

The parents would go to bed, and they all would sneak into the ballroom again, pairs and singles and everyone all together, talking and hanging out in their sweats, some of the older guys sneaking beers. Around 1 am, empty bottles turned into spin bottles, and in their sectioned off, sleepy group of 5, Jessica was across from Tessa, and one thing turned into the other. Their lips met across the cheers of the group and the compressed maroon carpet pressed into their knuckles. 

Tess sat back and felt kind of funny, a strange blush settling across her cheeks. Scott had gone to bed two hours ago. Jessica scratched at the carpet, looking down and not making eye contact with anyone. After a few minutes she looked up with a half-smile, and Tessa smiled back. 

Later that night as everyone had either wandered to their rooms or were playing cards, they sat and talked and Jess kissed her cheek before they went to bed. It was the first time she felt like that towards someone who wasn’t her skating partner. 

She walked back upstairs, card key in hand, not sure what she was thinking or feeling. She pulled on a sweatshirt to help combat the frigid room temp her mother usually chose, and crawled into her double bed, tugging at the pilled comforter and wiggling underneath the starched and bleached sheets. Light from the street lamp outside seeped in through the thin curtains, and it was the last thing she noticed before slipping off to sleep.

They saw each other a few more times at different competitions; one night Tessa snuck a soda and gave Jessica half; they were sitting on the edge of the hotel pool this time, both dangling their feet in the water. Jessica kissed her that time, and she kissed back, and it continued. They broke apart and shifted their bodies to face one another, and Tessa brought a hand to Jess’s face, the other splashing some water on the two, breaking the tension and sending peals of laughter echoing through the chlorine-scented room. Jessica’s fingers walked up Tessa’s calves and rested on her knees. 

Stolen kisses became their latest game, secrets in locker rooms, good luck in competition, holding hands a bit longer than just friends; Scott didn’t seem to notice.

But of course he did.


End file.
